Watching the World (quietly)
by quillstrike
Summary: Watch as she - the little sister, the hidden - descends, desperately swallowing her anger and crafting the iron bars of her prison. Then watch again as she - the Roman, the praetor - ascends, crumbling the world between her fingers and leaving only fire in her wake. (After all, it is the quiet anger, the hidden hunger that poses the greatest threat). A collection of drabbles.
1. I

**Watching the World (quietly)**

**Author Note: I started writing this as soon as I heard about the pjo ship weeks. I wanted a nice, happy Jeyna fic. It was supposed to be a one shot (sobbing), but it rapidly swelled into something monstrous and focused more on Reyna than any ship. I blame Reyna. Anyway, this will be a series of short little snapshots of varying lengths. Enjoy!**

Hylla always knows best. That is the rule. She is the one who knows to go to Circe's Island after their father's death, the one who knows to hide war from the sister who thirsts for something she does not - _can not _- have. She is the one who replaces images of fire and iron with a hairbrush and endless lengths of silk.

On their first week at the land that reeks of perfumed magic, Reyna asks, "Hylla, when are we going home?"

Home. A word that once meant trees brushed with strong strokes against a brilliant blue sky and animals bristling with jagged teeth and the _thrill _of raised voices verging on something larger, something that tastes of war -

Hylla reaches over and yanks on Reyna's loose hair firmly. "_This _is our home," she says fiercely. Then she turns on her heel, moving quickly to join the rest of Circe's handmaidens. Reyna swallows her tears, watching her sister's retreating back quietly. She lifts her arms and captures her hair with a twist of her hands, weaving it into an impenetrable coil. Already the events of the world are shifting into place. Reyna, crafting her own cage with trembling fingers. Hylla, chasing her ambition with determined steps that take her away (always away).

{Loose hair - threat.}

Hylla is the one who watches eagerly as Circe demonstrates feats of magic with a twist of her delicate wrists.

Reyna watches them quietly, peering from between the waxy green fronds of the plant behind Circe's table. Circe and Hylla stand together, two strong women with mouths sharpened with something that looks very much like cruel delight. She creeps closer, her breath catching in her throat as she sees what they are looking at - a small guinea pig, balancing on its hindlegs and spinning recklessly on the marble pavilion. And suddenly it's not just a guinea pig but hands and teeth and _gods _what if they're next? What if Circe tires of Hylla and decides she prefers dark fur to hair?

{Circe - threat.}

She stumbles forward, all pretense of secrecy lost as she fixes her eyes on the poor guinea pig.

"H-Hylla?" she manages to gasp out, hating how high, how helpless her voice sounds.

Hylla whirls, her eyes narrowing in annoyance when she sees her little sister.

"What are you doing, Reyna?" she hisses, glancing at Circe with something that looks like fear in her dark eyes.

"I- I-" she stutters, and suddenly she's not sure of anything anymore because now Circe is smiling kindly at her and she can't help but feel an immense dislike for her rigid rules and magic and elaborate guises because there is something out there that she _needs _but she can't name what it is and it's driving her _insane_-

Circe smiles sweetly. It is not a nice smile. It reminds Reyna of a spider beckoning a fly into its web.

"Oh, honey," she says endearingly, forgivingly. As if Reyna is the one who has committed the evil, and maybe she has - to Hylla - but she's still reeling from the sudden _roar _of hunger from somewhere deep within her body, and her small feet falter backward.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, still filled with burning resentment that she's not quite sure what to do with. Then she turns and flees, resolving to watch quietly. Biding her time is safer than rushing headlong into senseless combat.

{No plan - threat.}

**AN: Thanks for reading! Gods, I love Reyna. All reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter (installment? Chapter is a bit misleading). **


	2. II

**II**

The girl is restless. Reyna brushes the girl's long blonde hair carefully, banishing each salt-choked knot with a careful pull of the brush. The girl shifts slightly beneath her as one of the other girls brushes coral polish on her nails. Circe tells her of magic, of supremacy, of _power _-

The girl nods blindly, but Reyna can tell she's not really paying attention. Her gaze keeps straying to the glass cage at the corner of the room where Circe keeps her enchanted men.

Reyna says nothing, not even when she spies a small knife strapped to the girl's waist and the calculating glint in her cool gray eyes. She watches quietly, always quietly. She will not rush head first into an unknown situation without a strategy. Besides, though Hylla may think differently, she does not owe anything to the woman with glittering eyes and pouting lips. _Nothing_.

Her instincts have not labelled the girl as a threat. Yet.

After the rest of the attendants follow Circe out of the tent, leaving the girl alone, Reyna lingers, hiding behind a tall stone pillar to observe. The blonde girl leaps from her chair immediately, casting a furtive glance around the empty room, and then approaches the guinea pigs tentatively.

The girl tips something into the cage, and the guinea pigs swarm, chittering excitedly as they fight over the brightly colored pills.

Then the glass shatters as the guinea pigs swell, revealing the hands and teeth that had been hidden before. And suddenly they are not guinea pigs at all but grown men - _angry _men - who rage and beat a promise of destruction with their fists. Reyna hisses between her teeth, searching her person desperately for a weapon - _anything _- that she can use to defend herself.

There is nothing but silk.

But it is too late, now, for one of the men spies her, and his mouth splits into a smile that is jagged and thirsts for destruction. Destruction. Her young mind wonders at the prospect, wonders at the sense of _home _that accompanies the word. But she doesn't have time to ponder the subject, for the man is clawing at her with grubby hands and she is running, running, stumbling over mossy rocks and screaming for Hylla.

**Author Note: Thanks so much for reading! As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter! C:**


	3. III

**III**

She steals her first knife when the pirates are drunk on mulled wine and honeyed bread. Its handle is polished wood, and its blade beckoned from its undignified perch deep within a soft white cheese. She slips it into the folds of her silk dress, smiling innocently at no one at all. She stands unnoticed in the heart of rowdy jeers and the steady clinking of cups.

Reyna does not notice the sticky stains on the sanded floor, or the deep lines of fatigue pinched under her cheeks. For her hands curl familiarly over its length, and she knows that _this _is what it means to be the daughter of Bellona.

Later, she shows it to Hylla, and when their eyes meet she knows they are united once more. She tries a few clumsy slashes with the knife, but it doesn't feel quite natural yet; there is a stark separation between her hand and the blade, two strangers unused to the new connection. She knows that it is metal and steel and her hand is flesh and bone; she cannot make the two meld together - not yet.

So she watches the pirates fight with each other, watches them thrust their arms forward to bring down a pig with a flash of a spear - _mine_, she thinks with a sudden flash of possessiveness - and the way they bend their knees and snap their backs until they themselves are weapons.

She steals the spear later that night, prying it from the pig's corpse with a muttered apology. It shines even in the darkness of the night, the spear surprisingly light for being gold.

Hylla gasps when Reyna shows it to her.

"Imperial gold," she murmurs, casting a furtive look at the sleeping girls beside them.

Imperial gold. Reyna wonders at the word, her mouth forming each syllable lovingly as she runs her fingers along its smooth length.

_Mine_, she thinks again.

**Author Note: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think - I respond to all reviewers! :)**


	4. IV

**IV**

She practices every day, every hour, every time she can steal away and pluck a few free moments out of the day. She slinks along the forest ground, curling stealthily around the rough bark of the forest trees as she watches the pirates fight each other. She memorizes the curve of their elbows, the way their index fingers extend over the spear's surface before they throw with a heave of their gut-

Reyna watches and learns.

When she delivers platters of fruit and cooked meat to the pirates, she imagines herself handing her declaration of war instead (a javelin, soaring high over the _columna bellica_ - the war column).

One pirate leers at Hylla, grabbing her wrist instead of the boar she holds. Hylla is cold, still as a snake readying her strike.

"Let me go," she hisses. Hylla looks like death and vengeance and a promise of something deadly, and Reyna is both envious and proud of her sister who so easily masters the art of intimidation (in the quiet of night when even her sister is sleeping, Reyna sneaks away to the glassy fountain that was once filled with perfumed flowers and practices her scowl, curving her lips and baring her teeth at her reflection).

_She wanted magic first_, a traitorous voice whispers. Reyna pushes the thought away, resolving to steal more of the pirate's weapons as soon as she could.

"I like you better here," the pirate jeers, leaning over to high five one of his companions.

{Pirate - threat.}

They laugh, a rough, clumsy sound that grates on Reyna's ears. Reyna wants nothing more than to slide her dagger from its hiding place within delicate silk and guide its blade home, but she must wait. They all must wait. Hylla has said it countless times before - those who wait and watch will reign supreme. For they are the ones who know their enemies better than they know themselves, and from skill and strategy stems victory.

Hylla, who was so still before, strikes, hooking a leanly muscled leg out and wrapping it around the pirate's ankle, upending him easily. The noise halts, and Reyna finds herself incapable of movement. What happened to waiting?

The answer comes quickly, bringing a biting surge of bitterness with it - Hylla knows best.

She is still for only for a moment, and in the next she drops the silver platter and her feet are taking her forward, her hand drifting down to her waist -

"_Stop!_" a commanding voice yells. She flinches instinctively. This voice holds power. _This _voice, the _authority _seeping through each syllable, is what she must achieve.

The pirate underneath Hylla snarls, spitting bitterly, but he holds his arms up in surrender. Hylla juts her chin forward, watching coolly as Blackbeard slowly descends from his place at the topmost table.

"Where did you learn to fight?" he asks Hylla. Reyna lingers unnoticed at the outskirts, watching as Hylla, her cold, beautiful sister, smiles thinly and does not answer.

Blackbeard is intrigued more than he is annoyed, and she knows this is the beginning of the end - _his _end. It is Hylla who has tipped the first domino, Hylla who has orchestrated Blackbeard's actions.

And it is Reyna who will be waiting at the outskirts, ready at a second's notice to summon her spear and her anger.

But until then she will lash her rage and her thirst down with cords of iron and watch, her dark eyes whispering promises of blood that only she can hear.

**Author Note: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I love reading all the responses - they really make my day! :) All reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter!**


	5. V

**V**

It is time. She wraps the darkness of the night around her until it protects every flash of bare skin and follows Hylla with quiet footsteps. Hylla beckons her forward with a flick of her wrist and stops her with a wave of her long fingers. Reyna's heart is beating so loudly she is sure everyone can hear it. It is rising, struggling to tear viciously through her chest and there is something deeper that is fighting within her, but she cannot unleash it. Not yet.

Hylla leads her to the pirates' sleeping quarters, and Reyna follows silently. With each step her breathing slows, and she shifts her hand slightly, relishing in the comfortable hold she has on the spear.

Hylla raises her hand, bringing Reyna to a halt. She frowns but obeys, hovering just outside of the marble building that was once the home of perfumed brushes. Hylla slips in silkily, a flash of proud darkness against the glowing white of the pillars. Reyna's frown deepens, but she says nothing. Instead she tightens her grip on the spear to assure herself that it, unlike Hylla, is still there.

She hears a muffled protest from within the building, then the quiet gasp of death. The _thing _in her hums greedily at the sound, and she is momentarily horrified. What kind of person is she if she thrives on death? Then she hears the familiar whisper of steel and metal on metal and panicked yelling, and she thinks _no_, not death - chaos and death and _war_, and the beast within her roars its agreement.

Then she rushes in, her braid whipping behind her as she begins her irreversible ascension into wild, wild power.

**Author Note: Thank you to everyone for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! I really appreciate it! If you have a spare second, please let me know what you think! C: I respond to all reviews c;**


	6. VI

**VI**

Their mother is waiting at the end of the wooden dock. Somehow, though she cannot remember the last time she has seen Bellona, she is not surprised. She grips her spear and now _she _is the one jutting her chin out, a proud, _victorious _- how she enjoys that word - warrior.

Bellona watches them approach, inclining her head slightly when they offer the traditional gestures of respect. Reyna presses her knees against the rough wood of the dock, the sweat and dirt and blood seeping into the sun-bleached wood. _This _is her javelin thrown over the war column. _This _is her mark. Her eyes are mirrored two times over, black as the night that eats hungrily at the destruction left behind, as the three women - not girls, never girls - stare proudly at each other.

"Daughters," she says.

_Mother_, Reyna thinks, her body humming with anticipation and something like joy. She wants nothing more than to run forward and fling her arms around this ethereal, queenly figure, but she grits her teeth and lashes her beast down once more. Patience and restraint.

"You have done well," Bellona says coolly, still withdrawn. But now Reyna can hear a touch of pride in her voice, and when she looks up from her kneeling position she sees a ghost of a smile touch her mother's lips.

Bellona leaves them with more weapons of imperial gold, a small boat, two sharp, metallic dogs who lack a single softened plane, and whispered instructions to find the Wolf House. Then she vanishes, leaving them alone. No, not alone. They have imperial gold and dogs who are more like weapons than domesticated animal and a streamlined boat and the rage and the rising exultation that accompanies every challenge they defeat.

They are daughters of war herself, and daughters of war do not falter. They _vanquish._

**Author Note: Thanks so much for reading! As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next drabble C:**


	7. VII

**VII**

They greet them with an offering of arrows dipped in poison and knives thirsty for blood. Reyna jerks into action, her limbs moving fluidly as she melds her body with that of a nearby tree. Hylla is to her right, flinging a gold-hilted knife in the direction of the arrow's origin. The knife slams into something solidly rigid - wood, she thinks detachedly as she stills Aurum with a single touch. The dog quiets immediately, his sharp, angular ears folded so tightly back to his cruel skull that they are almost imperceptible. She feels a momentary rush of affection for the dog - for some reason, the two dogs have taken to Reyna far more than they have to Hylla, and she is secretly, selfishly, gleeful that for once she is preferred over her older sister - before flicking her eyes back to Hylla.

Hylla motions for her to climb the tree she leans against, and Reyna obeys without question, sliding her spear between her two outer fingers and, with a helpful nudge from Argentum, hoists herself up the rough bark. Another arrow shrieks through the air, slamming into the wood only three centimeters away from her left index finger. She swallows, her nose burning as the scent of poison singes the air. Focus. She stills her mind, grits her teeth, and scales the tree, ignoring the shouts from below.

When she's reached the top, she brushes aside the huge, leafy fronds, and peers downward carefully. Three dirt-stained women with wild eyes and leanly muscled arms hover at the outskirts of the small clearing Reyna and Hylla were camping in. The jungle air is heavy, and she feels as if she might start choking on the humidity. The trio of attackers begin to slowly spread out, the archer hanging back slightly as she readies another arrow. The one on the left taps at her waist, glancing at the one on the right. The woman on the right nods, her muscles tensing for a second, before she rushes in with a hoarse yell. Reyna slides her eyes to the one on the left - the leader, she thinks, noting the proud, calculating glint in her eye. The loud one is a distraction; indeed, the leader soon slinks in quietly while Hylla is engaged in combat with the loud one, holding her spear high above her head.

Reyna allows a small smile to tug at her lips before she slowly, quietly withdraws a dagger from her waist. Hylla is disarming the loud one below her, and the leader falters for just a second, clearly surprised to see such ferocity. Aurum and Argentum slink out of the thick fronds then, surrounding the archer silently. The archer starts, her dark hand jerking as she sees gold and silver teeth snarling mere inches away from her precious wrists, arms, hands. An archer is nothing if she cannot aim. Reyna's smile grows - just a little - as the woman jerks her bow between the two dogs, her eyes darting frantically back to the leader.

Reyna readies her grip, sliding her eyes back to the leader. The woman is raising her spear again, eying Hylla's back carefully. Reyna snarls, baring her teeth at the dishonorable display of cowardice; how dare she aim at her sister's back when she is distracted?

She snaps her arms forward, her fingers caressing the knife's leather hilt for a second before the blade slices through the air for a brief, exhilarating second, before slamming into the ground directly next to the leader's bare feet. The leader falls back with a startled cry as the blade quivers in the jungle ground, and Hylla barely reacts, neatly disarming her attacker with a final pivot of her hips.

Reyna slides nimbly down the tree's trunk, whistling at Aurum and Argentum to bring the archer into the clearing. They obey readily, Argentum tugging at the archer's coarse shirt and Aurum snapping at her heels.

Reyna lifts a corded arm and, with one smooth motion, plucks the knife from the ground and carefully bringing it to rest at the leader's throat. The woman tenses, and Reyna holds still - this is the moment that will determine whether she will have to stain her hands red again, whether she will have to fully unleash her thirst once more (she's not sure if she'll be able to restrain it again).

Luckily (or unluckily, a treacherous voice whispers from deep within Reyna's mind), the woman is smart, and she knows when she is defeated. She relaxes, and Reyna ever so slightly lessens the pressure of the knife.

Hylla sizes up the leader, making sure to keep her eyes coolly unimpressed.

"You're talented," the leader says, her words slightly hoarse. Hylla raises a dark eyebrow before nodding to Reyna. Reyna steps back slowly, forcing herself to sheathe the knife. Whistling to her dogs, she moves to the outskirts once more, though this time she is not alone; she has Aurum and Argentum, and somehow this makes all the difference. Now she is not retreating; she is making a tactical move to observe.

The leader juts a hand into the air, and Hylla takes it carefully.

"I am Zeli," she says. Then she waves her arm at her two companions, and they step forward obediently, their eyes curious under their gleaming metal helmets.

"And these are Kinzie and Lulu."

Hylla nods to them serenely. Zeli keeps her eyes on Hylla, and she says simply, "We could use another talented female warrior."

"Who?" Reyna says, and Zeli turns to her, a surprised look in her eyes, as if she's completely forgotten that there is a second sister.

"Who is 'we'?" she continues.

Zeli blinks, then smiles, pushing her shoulders back proudly and jutting her chin high.

"We are the Amazons."

**Author Note: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think; all reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter! c;**


	8. VIII

**VIII**

Her sister is alive, now. She looks like she did when she under Circe's tutelage - her dark eyes spark, and she walks with a purpose. The Amazons have treated her - them - well. She can admit that, albeit grudgingly. But with every new tactic taught, every new treacherous jungle trap dodged, Reyna can't help but remember their mother's instructions.

They have to find the Wolf House. What are they doing here, deep within the Amazon?

When she asks Hylla this, her sister pauses and, for the first time in weeks (no, _years_), she looks uncertain.

Sensing her opportunity, Reyna forges forward. "You heard mother! We must find the Wolf house," she says, and there is a touch of a plea, of a _whine _in her voice, but she doesn't care because her sister is finally listening to her (and isn't this what she'd always wanted? She and Hylla against the world, unstoppable in their partnership. Partners, _equals_).

But the moment passes (for even Reyna's imperial gold cannot stop the merciless movement of time), and something resolute shuts - no, _slams _- Hylla's natural armor back in place, and her dark, dark eyes are foreboding and aloof once more.

"Reyna. The Wolf House is _thousands _of miles away. We aren't even entirely sure where it is-" here, sensing Reyna's growing revulsion, Hylla grasps Reyna's arms fiercely, bringing their faces close together. Reyna realizes with a start that Hylla no longer needs to bend down to talk to her.

"_Reyna_," Hylla says again, and the 'please' is unspoken but understood. Reyna nods, a short, harsh movement. Now it is her sister with the plea, her sister blinking back tears as she sees Reyna recoil.

But the beast inside her is simmering angrily, discontent with the weeks of traipsing through the trees and the petty squabbles and the Amazons' constant power schisms.

"Mother would want-" Reyna begins, meeting her sisters eyes. She will not look down. Not this time.

Now Hylla hardens, and she says coldly, "The Amazons are warriors. They will provide us the power needed to bring down the blundering _children _who destroyed our home."

Reyna freezes, horror and rage intermingling into a potent volcano that takes all of her self control to restrain. Has all of this stalling, all of this _waiting _been to get revenge on the two children who had unwittingly poured the vitamins into the guinea pig cage?

She pulls back, and Hylla's hands hang in the air for a second, shocked, before she too lets her arms fall to her sides.

"So that's what this has all been for. All of this cozying up to the Amazons, all of this talk of supremacy against all men as a whole, all of this has been to get back at two _children_. Hylla, _I _am the same age as those two _children_. What does that make me?"

Hylla pauses, and for a moment Reyna dares to hope that maybe, _maybe _her proud, strong sister has been swayed -

"They have offered me a position as queen," she says finally, and her eyes search Reyna's once more. It is an olive branch, and suddenly Reyna can see a future with Hylla as queen. She will make a good queen; she is strong and brave and intelligent. And Reyna will be the subservient once more, always bowing her head, always lingering at the outside. Except this time the watching will not be her _choice_ - she will not be _choosing _to stay at the outskirts. Instead she will be forced to be outside, for she will not - _can _not - adhere to such a simplistic view of the world. The world is not made up of those who avenge and those who do not. There are warriors, yes, but warriors who fight for honor and justice.

And the choice makes all the difference. For if she _chooses _to watch from the outside, then she is still queenly, a predator biding her time. If she is _forced_ to be an outsider? Then she is a victim, and Reyna has already vowed to herself that she will never allow herself to be helpless again.

Reyna wished for _partners_, not this.

Something in her face changes, and Hylla must see this, for she draws back once more, her chin jutting forward (Reyna catches a slight tremble in her shoulders, but even this is soon banished, replaced by straightened shoulders proudly pushed back).

"No," Reyna whispers. Then she, too, steps back, her bare feet stepping on the long-forgotten map their mother had given them.

Hylla opens her mouth, and for a moment Reyna wonders if her sister will actually plea with her to stay. But she soon closes her mouth, her lips pressing thinly together. Queens do not beg.

Reyna nods clumsily, then steps back once, allowing herself to be swallowed by the jungle.

She is no longer Hylla and Reyna. She is now Just Reyna - no, Reyna.

She stoops, collecting her weapons, her supplies, and the map quickly. Aurum and Argentum whine questioningly, and she shushes them with a soft touch. They flank her protectively, their cool sides providing comfort as they press against her.

Then she leaves, walking proudly through the underbrush.

She doesn't look back.

**Author Note: Thanks so much for reading! As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter C;**


	9. IX

**IX**

It is with weary feet and heart that she finally reaches her destination, the infamous Wolf House that is fodder for many a local myth and child's nightmare. In the hushed whispers the house is towering, bristling with hidden spears and malicious intent. In person the building is short - squat, even - and constructed of rough stone crouching close to the mossy ground.

Reyna stares at the building for several long seconds, an odd mixture of weariness, relief, and bitter regret welling up in her chest. Aurum bumps his head against Reyna's limp hand, and she smiles weakly down at him.

She knows she looks like a mess. Her arm still smarts from her battle with a baby Cyclops she'd encountered back in Scotland, and even Aurum and Argentum have a few scrapes along their metallic bodies. Still, she's made it. She allows herself a brief, small smile before she shoulders her dirty pack and adjusts her grip on her spear. Then, straightening her shoulders once more, she marches inside the cool, dark interior of the house, leaving behind her identity as Hylla's little sister.

As her foot crosses the threshold, she thinks that this is it - _this _is the moment that marks her transition from weak little sister to unflinching Roman. And she stands all the taller for it, a proud, proud queen of her own emotions.

A massive blur of red hurtles toward her, slamming her to the ground. Her head cracks painfully against the uneven stone floor, and her arm goes automatically to the imperial gold dagger hidden between her heart and the thin fabric of her shirt.

Teeth, long and sharp, slash through the air, snapping to a close mere millimeters away from her hand. She holds her breath, looking up with wide eyes to meet intelligent, narrowed silver ones.

This must be Lupa. She holds her gaze for another moment, ignoring the painful pressure of the wolf's claws pressing into her gut. Then she slowly averts her eyes, showing respect for the dominant goddess.

Lupa snarls, and it echoes across the building, the forest, until all Reyna can hear is a dull ringing deep within her ears. The pressure on her chest gradually lessens as the wolf lifts her paw and settles back, her muscles still taut.

Reyna sits up slowly, carefully, and meets the wolf's eyes once more.

"I am Reyna, daughter of Bellona," she declares.

"Daughter of war," Lupa says in a low rumble. Then she tilts her head back, her red fur rippling as her muscles bunch and lengthen, and _howls_, her nose pointing to the sky and the sound an alluring call to arms, to _battle, _and it's all Reyna can manage to resist jumping up and thrusting _her _head to the sky and slashing at invisible enemies with her spear. At her side Aurum and Argentum raise their own voices, their silver and gold snouts elegant slashes of light in the otherwise dark building.

"Come," Lupa orders finally, pinning Reyna with her cunning silver eyes again.

Reyna scrambles to her feet, her prior injuries forgotten, and follows the wolf deeper into the building. She catches her breath when she sees what the simple exterior has been hiding; a cavernous interior, lit by sunlight filtering in from the gaps in the ceiling. Row after row of gleaming weapons of every imaginable variety line the sanded room and huge, weathered maps are plastered to the rock walls. When she peers at a particularly detailed one, she realizes that it is filled with battle markings and symbols of troops.

She catches Lupa watching her with something that looks a bit like a motherly smile on her lupine features. She inclines her head slowly, and a broad smile spreads on Reyna's face.

This, she thinks fiercely, _this _is what she's been looking for.

**Author Note: Thanks so much for reading! :)**


	10. X

**X**

"Again," Lupa snarls. Reyna grits her teeth, squints at the small, moving dummy of a monster, and grunts, hurling her left arm - having already proven her worth with her right arm, Lupa's decided to test her left - forward and releasing her fingers at the last possible moment. Her spear _pierces _the air, howling as it bites hungrily into the solid rock behind the dummy's heart.

It is a good throw, but Reyna knows better than to smile.

Lupa eyes its quivering form before turning away wordlessly. Reyna allows her shoulders to relax just a fraction; she's learned that with the wolf goddess, praises are rare and criticism abundant, and silence is the worthiest praise of all.

She tastes something in the air and turns just in time to see a dagger, glowing a sickening purple, hurtling towards her gut.

Never lower your guard.

{Complacency - threat.}

She drops to the ground, her cheek brushing against the rough pebbles, before jolting to her feet once more. Lupa, waiting innocently at the opposite end of the room, grunts her approval.

Then she tosses something once more, though this time it is not a weapon of angry steel but one just as fearsome - a collection of war strategy.

She catches the book easily, her eyes tracing the simple lettering carved into the leather cover.

_The Art of War_.

"Read," Lupa orders. Then she vanishes, leaving only a faint smell of mossy wood behind.

She pores over the words hungrily, devouring each lesson. Aurum hums contentedly, resting his slender head against her stomach as Argentum paces before her, standing guard even now, when she is relatively safe in Lupa's lair.

_1. __Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to the State. _

**Author Note: I am a huge fan of the Art of War. Italicized quote is from said book. Expect more quotes to be shoved at you. Thanks for reading! :)**


	11. XI

**XI**

The trees have shed their coat of leaves, shaking their scarlet-hued plumes to the frozen ground. Reyna think there is something tragically regal about them, the bright hues covered in the first frost of the winter.

She stoops, plucks a leaf from the rest of its fallen brethren, and shakes the snow from its brittle surface. She examines it for a moment before tucking it into the pocket of her loose pants. Then she hoists herself over the slippery boulder, dragging her haul - a white rabbit, the arrow through its eye a solemn culmination of weeks of frustrated practice - carefully behind her.

When she enters the Wolf Building, she calls out, "Lupa! I've brought dinner."

There is no answer. This in itself is not unusual; the wolf often goes on long, solitary walks through the woods. Reyna sets the rabbit near the entrance and, whistling for Aurum and Argentum, walks silently to the back entrance where the skinning knives are stored. Argentum tugs at her orange shirt (the one that made Lupa laugh for inexplicable reasons) and lets out a single, sharp bark. She jerks to a halt; she's learned by now to trust their judgment. Her hand drifts to her side, brushing against the empty fabric where her spear is usually tied.

She curses softly; she'd forgotten it after this morning's training practice.

Lesson learned. Always be armed.

Aurum tugs at her shirt, looking pointedly at the darkened east wing of the building, the wing that she'd been forbidden from entering. Reyna swallows nervously; she can't even imagine what will happen if the wolf goddess catches her in there. Aurum barks, whining softly.

Reyna hesitates for another moment before nodding sharply. She will trust her dogs; a true leader knows when to take risks and when to listen to her allies.

She taps her waist, summoning the dogs to her side. They obey immediately, two reassuringly solid masses.

She will not falter. She marches resolutely into the darkness, every muscle tensed in preparation of battle.

She finds the red wolf pacing by a marble fountain set in the middle of a lushly forested room. There is a face peering from within the fountain's spray, a brutal face of jagged teeth and eyes that flame. She recognizes something in that face; perhaps it is the cruel, unforgiving curve of his thin lips or the hunger in his eyes. She looks at the man and thinks of conflict and clashing violence.

Lupa leaps forward, dispelling the spray with a slash of her claws.

"Reyna."

Reyna steps forward, standing tall. Her back is a steel rod and her feet unshakable.

"Lupa," she says. "I-I know I'm not supposed to be in here, and I'm so-"

"No," the wolf barks. Reyna pauses, stumbling over her unformed apology.

The wolf turns, leveling her with her cool silver gaze.

"Never apologize for following your instincts," she says. Reyna nods.

Lupa sighs then, eying the proud, iron-backed girl before her with a tinge of sadness.

"You are ready," she says. Reyna pauses, hardly daring to breathe.

Ready. Does she mean-

The wolf pulls a well-worn map from between two stones and marks a place with a careful rip of her claw.

"This is Camp Jupiter. The journey there will be difficult, but I am sure you will not disappoint me," she says. It is not a question. Reyna nods once more, accepting her duty. She will not merely _survive _the journey. She will _excel_, for that is what leaders do.

Lupa's eyes soften for a moment.

"You, I am afraid, are not destined for great happiness. You will always struggle. You will have to _fight_, daughter of war."

Reyna doesn't flinch. She is ready for anything - she has to be.

Lupa nods, seeing something in Reyna's face. Then she tilts her head up and howls once more.

This time Reyna joins in.

**Author Note: Thanks for reading! As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next drabble. Let me know what you think! C:**


	12. XII

**XII**

She travels by the light of the moon, creeping silently across the forests and heading south towards the point Lupa had marked on the map. Aurum and Argentum are her shadows, silver and gold streaming behind her as she runs, her braid whipping behind her.

She doesn't look back, doesn't look at the trail of golden dust she leaves behind her. Her spear is hungry; her determination even more so. She is clashing gold and biting teeth and iron willed, and for a moment she allows herself to believe that she made the right decision all those months ago. (Later the simplest thing - a curve of a tree branch, a stray acorn, a leaf fluttering on a log - reminds her of Hylla, and she feels the aching burn in her gut, her throat, her _heart_ once more).

She banishes all thoughts of her sister from her mind, concentrating instead on the heavy footsteps behind her. She spotted the Cyclops back in Sacramento. It'd been following a small child with solemn gray eyes and curling blonde hair. She'd categorized the monster immediately, her eyes accessing its body with rapid efficiency.

{Cyclops - threat}

The child was innocently unaware of his pursuer, gurgling happily on the sun-soaked lawn. She'd hesitated for only a second before scooping up a rock and making her decision with a single, fluid throw.

The rock hit the monster right in its eye.

It's been following her ever since. Despite the added danger to an already-perilous situation, she doesn't regret her choice (the child had chubby fingers and ruddy cheeks, and she's always been a sucker for clumsy-footed innocents).

She spies a tree with conveniently placed branches ahead of her, and her eyes narrow in concentration. She shifts her stride slightly, increasing her speed until her legs are pumping, slamming against the forest ground with satisfyingly powerful strokes -

Aurum, seeing her signal, breaks off from the path, barking loudly to draw the Cyclops's attention. The beast roars behind her, its single eye fixated on Aurum's conspicuously gold coat. She crouches closer to the ground, tensing her stomach muscles as she prepares to leap.

She grabs on to the first branch, feeling the bark slide underneath her fingertips, and pulls herself up with a single, practiced motion. Aurum continues to howl his battle cry, and her heart echoes, screaming loudly into the night as the Cyclops blunders into the clearing. She readies her spear, watching with bated breath as the Cyclops swipes at Argentum's lithe form with an engorged hand.

She whistles, a harsh, piercing sound that draws the Cyclops's luminescent eye upwards. Aurum and Argentum slink silently away, leaving the Cyclops wide open.

She breathes. Once. Twice.

Her fingers tighten.

Then -

_Release_.

Later, she thinks that there is nothing quite like the feeling of victory.

**Author Note: Guess who we finally meet in the next drabble? :D As always, all reviews are greatly appreciated :)**


	13. XIII

**XIII**

She enters the tunnel three days later. Her face is drawn and purple sleep is tattooed liberally underneath her dark eyes. She has not had any water in two days, has not eaten in three. The forest is not quite as crisp anymore, the trees' knobby arms blurring together as she stumbles over the occasional root. She is weakened, exhausted. But her mouth - her mouth is on the verge of a smile, and her hands are steady as she leads Aurum and Argentum through the tunnel's dark mouth.

When she emerges from the darkness and sees the sun ahead, she thinks hazily that maybe this will be her home.

A skinny boy with straw like hair stands near the tunnel's exit, a bored expression on his thin face. When she stumbles out, his pale eyes widen.

"Who are you?" he demands, and she notices that he protectively clutches a stuffed bear to his chest. An odd companion, she thinks detachedly, for a boy who looks around fourteen years old.

She feels Aurum and Argentum approach from behind, and they thrust their noses underneath her palms, staring at the boy threateningly. He falters, taking an involuntary step back as Argentum barks.

She taps the hound's head, and he stills, not breaking his gaze.

She meets the boy's eyes readily and says hoarsely, "I am Reyna, daughter of Bellona. Lupa sent me here."

The boy keeps glancing nervously down at the dogs, and she wonders how he ever faced Lupa, a towering, seven foot tall wolf, if he cannot handle even Aurum and Argentum.

To his credit, he manages to tear his gaze away after another moment, and she sees something calculating, something _wild _(not, she thinks, in _her _kind of wild - this is an unsettling, unbalanced sort of wild) in his pale eyes. His irises appear to bleed into the whites of his eyes, pale blue and white melding in an off-putting swirl of calculating fervor.

"I am Octavian. Follow me," he orders imperiously. She nods silently, falling behind him as he leads her through the iron-wrought gates.

After they pass the line of trees, she gasps involuntarily, staring open-mouthed at the throngs of people shouting, laughing, _living_. After journeying in solitude for the past four weeks and three days, the sudden abundance of people is overwhelming. The campers are all outfitted in simple purple shirts, and she spies simple, sharp black tattoos peeking out from underneath the thin fabric.

He leads her past towering stone buildings and expansive fields of lush grass.

She feels eyes pressing onto her skin, her clothes, her weapons, and she swallows nervously. She is not used to so much attention, and she finds herself wishing - for just a moment - that she is back in Lupa's quiet building. Then she chides herself, reminding herself that she is no coward but a daughter of Bellona, her blood is war itself -

And war does not - outwardly, at least - show weakness.

So she pushes back her shoulders and forces her hand to release its vise-like grip on her spear, keeping her arms swinging casually by her sides. She looks at no one at all, keeping her back as straight as her spear.

She hears the telling shriek of metal against metal, and, despite her fatigue, she feels her eyes brighten, her pace quicken ever so slightly as Octavian brings her to a clearing filled with sparring campers.

The summer air is drowning in muffled grunts and thumps as blunted swords hit leather armor. She watches the others quietly, wonderingly taking in each new type of weapon. She feels the beginnings of a smile start to tug at the corners of her lips.

Octavian pushes past the partners, paying no heed to the ensuing protests. She follows him silently, nimbly dodging the occasional wild swing. How can there be so many half bloods? She's always _known _that there are other half bloods, of course, but it's something entirely different to actually _see _the multitude of flashing swords and weaving feet -

Octavian taps another blonde boy on the shoulder, yelping when the boy slashes at him instinctively.

"Hey! Watch it," he snaps. The boy offers an apologetic smile, nodding respectfully to his partner - a pretty girl with hair the color of Lupa's fur - before saying, "What is it, Octavian?"

Octavian jabs his thumb in Reyna's direction, and the boy fixes Reyna with his eyes (they are the kind of blue that runs from the markers she scribbled with as a toddler, the kind of blue that tragic poems and songs aching with longing are written about. She'd always hated those songs).

"Good news. You no longer have the honor of being the newest probatio. We have a new recruit," Octavian says. "Show her around - fifth cohort, I'd think." She doesn't like the hint of glee that floods his words, doesn't like the superior way he looks at them, his thin, hooked nose thrust proudly into the air.

The boy hasn't looked away yet, and she's beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with the attention. His gaze, however, is friendly enough, so she hasn't labeled him as a threat. Yet.

He smiles then, sheathing his sword with practiced ease.

"Hi, I'm Jason," he says, offering his hand.

She stares at it for a moment, unblinking, before carefully resting her spear against her hip. She lifts her right hand, keeping her left still firmly placed on the dagger at her waist, and reaches out.

"Hello, Ja-" she begins, trying to inject some cheerfulness into her voice (she's been told, many times, that she sounds perpetually aloof. She's not sure that this is _quite _such a bad thing, but for once she decides to try).

A spark, white-hot and fleeting, leaps from his tanned finger to her own. She recoils, a breath of surprise hissing out from between clenched teeth. Aurum growls by her side, his ears pressed tightly back against his sleek head. She quiets him with a single touch, staring narrow-eyed at the boy the whole time.

He looks just as shocked as she, and he stares at his hand, then hers, wonderingly.

"Er - sorry," he offers. "That's never happened before."

Then he meets her eyes once more, and she's struck again by the _blueness _of his eyes. They make her feel out of place, unsettled.

Then he lifts his chin, his smile slipping into something darker, more severe.

"I am the son of Jupiter," he says levelly, and Reyna's eyes widen just a bit before she nods in return. A son of the Lord of the Sky.

"Pleasure," she says shortly.

He glances down at her dogs.

"They're beautiful," he observes, and she looks at him sharply, trying to decide if he is mocking her. Aurum and Argentum are sleek, elegant animals of harsh angles and razor-sharp claws. She's never heard them described as _beautiful_ before, but as she watches Aurum sniff the ground delicately, his head an elegant curve of gleaming gold, she thinks that it is an appropriate adjective.

"Come," he says, beckoning her forward (she notices that he is careful not to touch her again). "You must be starving."

**Author note: woo, we're finally (finally!) at camp jupiter! :D thank you so much for reading - all reviews are greatly appreciated c;**


	14. XIV

**XIV**

Camp Jupiter, she discovers, is tightly regulated. The campers are disciplined; even the youngest of demigods - or legacies, for Reyna's realized that Lupa will pass even those with only a drop of the gods' blood if they are worthy - commit hours to the training area.

The ranks are rigid. She, as the newest recruit, is a probatio - the lowest rank. She is unproven. Though she has passed Lupa's tests, she must still prove her worth to her fellow campers. These campers eye her curiously, assessing her stride, the way she holds her spear, the dogs by her sides -

She does not look down, does not look away.

The legionnaires are next. These are the campers who have survived a year (not an easy task, considering the variety of monsters continually plaguing the country) or the campers who have proved themselves in acts of valor. These are the lucky few who have gone on quests and come back alive.

The centurions lead the five cohorts. They are dauntless, unflinching and imperious. But even the revered centurions must obey the praetor - or praetors, for Reyna's found that the Romans - _her _people, she reminds herself fiercely - favor things that come in twos. Two centurions for each cohort. Two praetors for the whole camp. The praetors command everything, ruling the camp with a firm hand.

After she finishes her first meal at the camp, Jason leads her to the praetors' quarters. The building is immense, soaring high above her dirtied form with imposing marble columns and severe, unflinchingly detailed sculptures of slain monsters guarding the pebbled walkway. She swallows, adjusting her grip on her spear as her sandaled feet scrape against the small stones. Aurum and Argentum are quiet beside her, surveying their surroundings warily. The building practically reeks of authority, and she marvels at the power the praetors must hold. Jason leads her up the wide white steps, glancing at the dark entrance with a troubled expression on his face. Reyna's hands are sweating profusely by now; this is the first time she has seen Jason look truly nervous, and she cannot help but feel anxious as well. But she is the daughter of Bellona, and daughters of Bellona do not - ever - reveal their secrets. So she hides her nerves behind a severe, haughty expression (her left hand nervously strokes Argentum's ear; Jason's eyes flick down, but he does not comment).

Jason offers her a crooked smile, a flash of brilliant white that disappears as quickly as it appeared (like a bolt of lightning, she thinks detachedly).

"Aurelia is strict but not unkind. Varius is a bit unpredictable, but he wasn't elected praetor for no reason. He will not be unreasonable," he says hurriedly, his voice lowering enough so that Reyna has to lean in slightly to hear. He pauses, then adds fervently, "Don't worry; you've passed Lupa's judgment, and you've worked too hard to fail now. So you won't. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

And suddenly she sees not a short, gangly boy but a glimpse of the man he is sure to become, confident and straight-backed -

A leader.

She blinks, her mouth opening slightly in shock. Who is this boy?

But she has no time to craft a proper response, for a cool voice calls for her from within. She casts one last look at Jason before tightening her grip on her spear.

She is Reyna, and she will not fail.

She ascends the steps purposefully, keeping her eyes directed firmly ahead.

**Author Note: thanks for reading! :) Note - I HAVE NOT READ BOO YET. I know Reyna plays a big part in that, and I'm sure Riordan's revealed some of her backstory. Because I've already written some chapters in advance, this might go into AU territory. I'll let you know if it does once I find time to read blood of olympus! :)**


	15. XV

**XV**

The praetors are seated in high, unforgiving stone chairs, their deep purple robes unapologetic slashes of color against the otherwise starkly white room. The girl - Aurelia - is stunning. She looks around seventeen, and she has white-blonde hair that gleams in the flickering light of the torch placed to her right.

Varius looks around the same age, perhaps a year or two younger than Aurelia. He wears a solemn expression that makes him appear far older, and his dark hair curls wildly against his gleaming eagle medal.

Reyna approaches them carefully, her shadow split in three as Aurum and Argentum tail her quietly.

When she reaches the marble slab three meters from their chairs, she stops respectfully, waiting to be addressed.

"Speak," Aurelia commands.

Reyna swallows, then says clearly, "I am Reyna, daughter of Bellona. Lupa sent me here."

Varius eyes her shrewdly but says nothing, his dark eyes unreadable in the writhing shadows thrown by the nearby torch. Aurelia settles back in her chair, her slender fingers tapping the white armrest slowly.

"Bellona," she murmurs, her brown eyes distant. Reyna stands still, not allowing herself the freedom to move a single muscle. This is a test; it is always a test, always a way to trip her up -

She's traveled far too long and defeated far too many challenges to let anything stop her.

Finally Aurelia leans forward slightly, her hands stilling.

"Welcome, daughter of Bellona. I trust the fifth cohort is treating you well?" she says serenely, though her eyes are now alight with an unspoken challenge. Reyna remembers the way Octavian said 'fifth cohort', the way his thin lips twisted into an unpleasant, gleeful smile. She doesn't know what sort of stigma follows the fifth cohort, but she knows that she must not let any emotion cross her face. Varius's mouth twitches, and his eyes suddenly narrow as he surveys Reyna's face carefully, his dark brow raising slightly.

Reyna doesn't react to the hidden challenge.

"I am happy to be in any place where I am needed," Reyna says simply. Aurelia nods approvingly, and Varius bursts into an unexpected, short laugh. Reyna eyes him warily, but the praetor merely grins, all traces of his solemn, distant persona vanished from his face.

"You will make a good soldier, Reyna, daughter of Bellona," he says. Reyna inclines her head and, seeing that she is being dismissed, she turns slowly and strides out of the echoing hall.

It is only once she has walked past the looming entryway that she allows her fingers to tremble. Aurum and Argentum nose her hands comfortingly, and she exhales slowly, a long, shuddering breath that rasps against her dry throat.

Though Varius and Aurelia are only a few years her elder, they radiate authority. She hopes to one day do the same.

**Author Note: as always, thanks for reading! :)**


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